


The Road We Travel

by Enina



Series: The Road We Travel (Goes On And On) [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Anger, Hate Sex, It could never be more than that, It is just sex, M/M, Obsession, Unhealthy Relationships, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 04:02:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4085896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enina/pseuds/Enina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry and Eobard have been at this for a long time.</p>
<p>It is a curse neither of them can get away from.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Road We Travel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladyofpride](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofpride/gifts).



> This little piece is for my dear sweetheart ladyofpride who has had a crazy busy week and deserves a little treat! I really hope you like it. :)

* * *

 

Barry shudders when Eobard thrust his hips up, catching him off-guard as he has been the active one during the sex so far. A soft groan passes his lips and he feels a spike of annoyance flare up in his guts when he notices the amused and pleased way Eobard watches him for a moment.

The smug expression vanishes when Barry rolls his hips in that slow lazy way that always gets to the other man.

Eobard hisses and tightens his grip on Barry’s hips, urging him on to repeat that movement. He does and watches how Eobard briefly close his eyes in response.

The fingers on Barry’s hips are pressing into his flesh hard enough that they would leave bruises if Barry were any other person. The sharp pain it causes only adds to the heat in his loins, though.

Another shudder goes through him as he slowly lifts himself off Eobard’s cock, so much that only the swollen head is still in him, hugged firmly by his ring of muscles, before he slowly – painfully so – sinks down onto it again in one smooth motion.

The room around them is quiet other than for the noises they are making. It adds to the intensity of it all and Barry isn’t sure whether he welcomes it or not.

Eobard’s house – or Wells house, although Barry hardly bothers to remember this these days anymore when it is just the two of them – offers enough privacy that the nights are very quiet, even during the summer with the windows tilted.

It is a nice change to the noisy nights he usually deals with in his own apartment. Probably the only thing he at least somewhat looks forward to when coming over…

Barry watches the other man as he repeats the slow roll of his hips that send a pleasant spike of heat up his spine, before he glances over to the window next to them that offers a clear sight of the current full moon. Its soft shine is the only source of light in the room.

His skin his feeling hot and too tight, a sheen of sweat covering it from what they have been doing for the last hour by now. It is a bit like running a fever… well, apart from the sex.

It isn’t love-making. Barry would never call it that.

You can’t make love with a person you despise…

“Barry,” Eobards voice is low, nothing more than a murmur, something closes to a plea, and Barry turns back to him just as he repeats the motion of his hips. Their eyes meet and Barry feels the hands on his hips relax.

They have been at this a while now. Living these lies, these borrowed lives.

“Barry,” repeats Eobard again, firmer and softer at the same time and Barry imagines what it would be like to push his hand through this man’s chest right now, through his heart, stopping it, maybe even grabbing it, feeling the firm beating muscle against his palm and ripping it out.

The notion is unsettling alluring and he lifts himself a bit further off the cock that is deeply buried in his ass before pushing down on it again with force. A white hot pleasure flashes through him and it is difficult to keep his eyes open as a groan passes his lips. He keeps watching Eobard, though, who returns it with this intense gaze of his that sometimes is still able to give Barry goose bumps.

Barry knows that this temporary truce could not last. He has learned by now not to trust his villains, whether it be the Reverse Flash himself or any other of his Rogues Gallery… not that any of the others really matter anymore. They are no threat, not yet and he doubts that they ever will be again – at least to him.

Eobard’s right hand starts to move upwards, along his side, his ribs, to his shoulder and back down again. It is a ridiculously tentative thing to do and Barry nearly sneers in his face for it.

He could kill him, so easily. He doubts that Eobard would be able to do anything with how he lets his guard down around him these days. Like he trusts him, like they are actually really lovers or even just friends.

It is so damn insulting…

At times, Barry’s anger over what the other man has done to him – to both of them, really – makes way to another emotion, though, a far less destructive one. One, he thinks, fits Eobard much better.

In all the years they have been forced to repeat history, their souls somehow bonded together like the bodies of Siamese twins, it has turned out that fighting doesn’t make the pain go away or the seething hate wane even just a bit. What they’ve achieved with it was a lot of destruction, though, as well as a lot of deaths and the numbing realisation that they would always be at this, that there is no way to lift this curse, not for Barry and not for Eobard.

Not that the later one would even want this to happen. It has been his doing to begin with, after all.

That fucking mental bastard…

Barry sometimes wonders how things would have worked out differently should he have been stronger in the beginning. Strong enough to defeat – really defeat – the other man and bring an end to his miserable existence.

Eobard makes a soft noise, it sounds both annoyed and pleading and Barry realizes that he has slowed down considerably, enough that he is hardly moving anymore.

“Maybe I should just get up and leave,” Barry says suddenly, calmly like it is a suggestion. His voice is heavy and unusually husk and he nearly has to smirk when Eobard focuses him with a glare that is more worried than threatening. “Go back to work to do something that is actually worth my time instead of wasting it here.”

The following tension hangs heavy between them and Barry has finally ceased to move at all. Eobard’s dick is still buried deep in him, a feeling that has something so familiar to it that it is nearly sickening.

“Because your work makes any difference in the end, Barry?” There is a taunting quality to the question and Eobard lifts his hand up to Barry’s chest. Barry expects it but he still flinches slightly when his right nipple is pinched painfully hard. “Because _you_ make any difference in the end?”

Barry grabs the wrist of the assaulting hand and squeezes it hard enough that it has to _hurt_.

“Because it reminds me that I am not _just_ a victim of circumstances,” he replies quietly. Eobard scowls and pinches his nipple harder, so much that Barry is certain he would draw blood any second now.

“You’ve always been _nothing but_ a victim,” Eobard reminds him just as quietly. “A _lamb_ to be _sacrificed_. It has been written in history books for centuries - you would have fallen victim to the damn _world_ you are so eager to save-”

“But you’ve saved me instead,” Barry interjects and there is a cold fury in his chest as he speaks that makes it difficult to not simply start this damn loop all over again. Why not? He could kill Eobard, he has before and it isn’t like he wouldn’t get another chance to make things better… or mess them up even worse.

It hardly matters in the end, nothing of this would ever really does – he is trapped in a room made of nothing but walls with this psychopath as his shadow…

The other man doesn’t say anything for a long moment. His fingers loosen and Barry lets his hand go again.

They watch each other in an uncomfortable silence that is by now just as familiar as the feeling of Eobard’s cock in him.

“You are coming back to me,” Eobard points out and while he sounds calm, Barry doesn’t miss the anger and hurt in his eyes and it makes him feel so damn tired of it all. Of how everything he knew and held dear started to crack and turn to ashes in his own fingers because he wasn’t strong nor fast nor clever enough back when it still mattered.

His family, his friends, the people he works with – they are all alive, they will always be in the end, at least to him, because of some fucked up plan Barry doesn’t understand even after all this time.

It should make him happy to have them at least at his side and in a way it does but…

Barry turns back to the window, to where the moon is still hanging bright and big in the dark sky. He puts his hands on Eobard’s firm belly and starts to move again. The movements are small but enough that the cock in him starts to brush lightly against his prostate, which sends small shivers through his body.

Eobards grunts softly and slowly puts his hands back onto Barry’s hips – nearly hesitatingly so.

“While I don’t like it, you are about the only person who _truly_ knows me anymore,” Barry keeps looking at the bright luminary as he lifts himself up a bit higher before smoothly grinding down against the other man.

A couple of times he told the others of what had happened – what is still happening to him – but them knowing doesn’t really benefit anybody in the end and it is only hard for everybody involved to know what he isn’t really the Barry Allen of their world – _their_ Barry Allen.

He hates to see himself as a sort of _parasite_ but you can only tell yourself that you aren’t stealing another man’s existence for so long while living in his body.

“I have _always_ known you better than anybody else, Barry,” Eobard’s words are soft-spoken and he meets his upset glare firmly, “And I always _will_.”

_You’ve made sure of that_ , Barry thinks darkly and decides that he wants to get this over with. He needs to get away. He needs to get as much distance between them as he can – till he finds his way back again, at least. Like a lost child that Eobard will welcome with open arms because he is a sick twisted man who thinks that the obsession he feels for him is really something akin to love and because Barry is…

Barry starts to speed up. He is lifting himself up before slamming down hard, again and again, with enough force that each hit of his prostate causes a nearly painfully intense pleasure to flash through him – up his spline, down his legs.

Eobard makes a low sound – more like a sigh than a moan – and closes his eyes. His hands start to caress Barry’s sites again and he lifts his own hips to meet him halfway, welcoming the pleasure readily.

Then, Eobard starts to vibrate beneath him and it is like a switch is turned. Barry follows, connecting to the speed force just as effortlessly and their movement become blurry, erratic and desperate.

Barry backhands Eobard so hard that he is certain he has broken the other man cheekbone when he tries to switch their positions. Eobard glares up at him and digs his fingers painfully in his thighs, hard enough to really draw blood this time. Barry returns him the favour by leaving red bloody marks on his chest, all the while growing more frantic with fucking himself on the other man’s hard dick.

“I hate you,” he spits and doesn’t bother to try and hide the tears that are prickling in the corner of his eyes, “I will _always_ hate you, Thawne.”

There is nothing more consistent in his life left than this – this feeling that is slowly starting to eat away at him and making it harder and harder to slip back into the role of Barry Allen, son of Henry Allen, surrogate son of Joe West, best friend of Iris West.

Nothing of this will matter in a couple of decades anymore, they will all be gone again, Joe, Iris, Cisco, Caitlin, Ronnie, Ollie… and he will be left with this horrible creature once more. That excuse of a man with whom he is currently fucking himself closer and closer to his climax.

The absurdity and horror of it all nearly causes him to laugh.

“I hate you,” he hisses instead and meets Eobards furious glare firmly, knowing just too well how deeply this hurts the other man, no matter how he always pretends otherwise.

Barry has never understood how Eobard could entertain the ridiculous notion that he could ever see him as anything else than a monster after what he has done to him, his parents and everybody else who had been unlucky to cross ways with that psychopath. This man is one of the worst human beings he has ever had the displeasure to meet and knowing that he would never be able to get away from him is pure agony.

The other speedster is like a damn cancer that is coming back time and time again, no matter how often he cuts him out of his life, he will just reappear sooner or later.

Barry more feels than sees that the world around them has grown still, frozen in a moment between split-seconds. His body is too heavy and light at the same time, no longer really like his own but something Eobard and he share as the speed force is stopping to differentiating between both of them as different entities. It is a clear sign to end this, the heat in him is too intense, the disturbing pleasure too much and he grab his own hard erection with one hand. With a couple of firm long strokes he reaches his orgasm.

He throws his head back, teeth clenched enough that the muscles in his jaw start to hurt, and the vibration of his body stops as he grows completely still while pleasure overtakes him – crashes down on him like a monstrous wave.

Eobard hisses in surprise, likely pissed that Barry stopped his participation in this little act too early, and grabs his hips before starting to thrust up hard into him once more.

It is actually painfully intense, having Eobard’s dick fuck him like this just after reaching his climax, but Barry is used to this and he knows that it won’t take the other man long to follow.

And it doesn’t.

It takes Eobard only a moment before he too grows still, fingers digging hard enough into his hips that they break his soft skin there, and Barry shudders as he hears him hiss his name.

They stay like this for how long he doesn’t know. Usually, Barry’s reception of time gets a bit distorted after sex and he just lets his body and mind come down on their own accord. Eobard doesn’t complain as he is probably just as spent as him and he never one to decline any extra time they spend together anyway.

Barry has his eyes closes, his head still tilted back, and he just tries to enjoy the temporary looseness of his limbs.

Then, Eobard starts to caress his sides again and the moment is gone. Barry looks down at the other man, a slight sneer on his face, and pushes his hands away harshly before climbing off him.

He really should get going. Maybe not to work because he feels exhausted and he doesn’t like to run into Joe or anybody else he knows after the little encounters he shares with Eobard…

A hand grasps his wrist, tightly but not enough to cause discomfort, and Barry turns back to the other man with an annoyed frown.

“Stay,” Eobard makes it sound like an order but the pleading in his eyes make it obvious that it really isn’t. They both know that he can’t make Barry do anything anymore if he doesn’t want to.

“I’m tired,” Barry tells him with a slight edge to his voice but doesn’t shake Eobard’s hand off.

“We both are currently in a bed,” points the other man out in this dry tone of his that nearly makes Barry crack a smile despite everything. Eobard starts to tug on his hand lightly but Barry doesn’t relent. The older man to frowns in annoyance.

A tense moment passes between them and Barry wonders whether Eobard would let him go or whether this would actually lead to a fight – it has been quite a while since they really clashed the last time.

“I know you hate me.”

This is not what Barry has expected him to say and his surprise has to be palpable because Eobard chuckles even though there is no trace of humour in it.

“You are so damn stubborn,” he goes on and bores his intense gaze into Barry’s eyes as he does, “So damn self-righteous-”

“I am too tired for-”

“ _Shut up!_ ”

The anger and vehemence catches Barry off-guard and, for a moment, he does fall quiet. Eobard glare at him like he is the source of all his problems and… isn’t that just funny how accurate it is in a way?

“You think I don’t understand that you will _never_ see me as anything else but a _deranged monster_!?” he spits and the grip on Barry’s wrist grows painfully strong. “It get it, you hate me. You make sure to tell me every fucking time you are around. _I get it_!”

Something crosses Eobards face, an emotion that nearly causes Barry to laugh in disbelief and anger because this deranged man actually has the gall to feel like _he_ is the one being _wronged_ here!

“ _Fuck you_ ,” hisses Barry and vibrates his wrist intensely enough that Eobard has to let go of it.

There is no way that he would deal with this, not now, not ever. If that bastard needed to throw a self-pity party he would have to do it on his own!

“Stay!” Eobard sounds livid but also unexpectedly anxious and Barry has no idea what is it with him tonight. He has been behaving off for… well, he is always behaving off these days, losing a grip on reality just as much as Barry does but usually he isn’t all into his face with it.

“I am going _home_ ,” Barry shoots him a warning glare after getting up, “And you will leave me the fuck alone, I’ve had _enough_ of you for today!”

He had enough of Eobard for all eternity but he knows that getting rid of that bastard for good is only wishful thinking-

The punch catches him completely off-guard and before he even has the opportunity to catch his balance again, the other man is onto him already, throwing him to the ground with enough force that it really hurts.

“Damn it-” Barry is cut off by another punch. It is strong enough that the back of his head smashes painfully hard against the ground and he starts to see stars flicker before his eyes. Another one follows and Barry suddenly wonders whether Eobard would be the one who kills him this time. It has been a while…

Another assault stays out, though, and Barry, who quickly loses the light-headedness again, is just about to return the favour of getting a fist smashed into the face, when the other man is off him again. He entertains the notion to go after him and try to turn this into a real fight, a nasty one, but in the end he lets it go because what good would it do?

Besides, he has plans to meet up with Iris and Eddie to go to his favourite Sushi bar in Keystone for dinner tomorrow afternoon and he has been really looking forward to it. Thus, getting killed or murder someone is not all too high on his list of things to do at the moment.

“You feel better now?” Barry grumbles and pushes himself up into a sitting position while he rubs his left cheek that still feels sore. “Because I hope it was worth it. Believe me, you damn jackass won’t see me again for a while.”

His sneer dies down when his gaze falls upon Eobard and the anger is partly replaced by surprise and unease that starts to uncoil in his stomach.

The other man stands a couple of feet away from him in front of the bed, still stark naked. His face is pale and his whole body is so tensed up that he is slightly shaking. There is something off in the way he is watching him but Barry can’t really put a name to it.

“You will always hate me,” Eobard sounds calm, unnaturally so and there is a tightness around his eyes that are shimmering with unshed tears in the pale light of the moon as he meets his, “You will never see me as anything but a _monster_.”

Barry slowly gets up and averts his gaze to the window because meeting this dejected and resigned expression is uncomfortable despite who they are to each other. He rubs his eyes tiredly with one hand and heaves a tired sigh before he reluctantly turns back to Eobard.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” he asks quietly. It is an honest question, Barry has wondered about it for a long time now. He knows that Eobard is hurting just as much as he does, maybe even more so because he doesn’t really has anybody left, and Barry usually takes quite some satisfaction from this knowledge.

Not now, though, not when the other man actually really looks like he is going to break any second now – shatter like thin glass in a too tight grasp.

Eobard doesn’t answer and he hasn’t expected him to.

“I will see you around,” Barry states quietly after another uncomfortable silence passed between them. There isn’t really anything else to say and he just wants to get out of here, away from this horrible and sad man.

Barry's hate for Eobard Thawne is still there, still burning bright and deeply buried in him. So much so that it has become a part of him he really couldn’t imagine live without anymore.

These days, it has started to be accompanied by this intense pity for the other speedster, though.

In the end, Eobard has really damned both of them, after all.

Barry leaves without another word.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was a bit of a depressing piece but I still hope you could enjoy it despite its rather sad undertone.
> 
> This idea has been following me around for a while now and I just don’t have the time to make a real long story out of it. Thus it ended up as a one-shot and I really like how it turned out in the end.
> 
> I just feel a bit bad for Eobard… a bit but still.
> 
> Also, this story is not betaed and I apologize for any grammar errors I've made.
> 
> Feel free to let me know what you think, I always immensely enjoy feedback from you lovely people! :)


End file.
